I walked back to the facility with my overalls stained and greasy; well I had to look as if i’d been working. They’re paying me the medium beans for this charade, so I may as well play the game. Fancy working for a government and just pretending since covid. Don’t get me wrong, when the work is drip fed I’m on it like a pro, but when theres been a famine, the corporate stomach shrinks, and so by lunch time I’ve had enough. My capacity to work a full day without daydreaming and cursing that I have to work a full day is dispiriting; and this ladies and gentlemen is how my department (like hosiery on the forth floor we are fading away) continues to function of a fashion. The bigger picture is worrying, I thought my job was relatively relevant, but in the slim times, I’m not so sure; no one knows what our purpose is to the extent that I’m starting to doubt we have a purpose after putting in 25 years of this, I’m at that age now, and never say never but fucking hell I can’t wait to hang up my steel toe caps, sadly the pension will not help me at this juncture, I think we all need help.